


Utter Insanity

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-29
Updated: 2005-12-29
Packaged: 2019-01-19 11:45:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12409710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: It’s safe to say that James Potter has the rare and utterly fascinating gift of driving Lily Evans completely and horribly insane.





	Utter Insanity

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

**_Disclaimer: Everything from hp books belongs to jk rowling_ ** ****

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Utter Insanity

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**“I hate him.”**

It starts out as a whisper. It usually does as his face wanders into her mind or he does something so extraordinarily stupid knowing one hundred percent how angry she would get no matter how amicable the gesture. She holds a piece of parchment in her hand as a brown speckled owl hoots annoyingly at her window. She ignores the clatter and her eyes flash dangerously and her irises skim the parchment in her hand.

**“I HATE HIM!”**

The usual scream is heard and next door her sister bangs loudly on the wall. “Shut the bloody hell up!” She usually screams. “I have exams!” She’ll usually add for effect. Down in the kitchen her smirking parents sit down for lunch and almost laugh at their daughter’s anger. It’s rather humorous how furious she gets because of him and they know that’s there's next to no reason for her anger. She works herself into a frenzy for absolutely nothing. For a boy she claims to despise. Her cheeks are currently turning an ugly and deep shade of red. Her hair is furiously being tied messily into a pony tail. And in a second a loud shriek will be heard as she begins processing the audacity of _that_ boy. A shriek will be heard as another day will be spent with her thoughts solely on him. Another day is lost and tomorrow, they know, will be the same thing.

They love this, though. Her parents love this side of her because it’s as if a part of their daughter is resurrected with his annoying persistence. When she began Hogwarts a part of her was lost to the need to prove her worth. She became demure and calm so unlike their feisty daughter that once would entertain them all day. So unlike their fireball with the witty tongue that would put the devil himself to shame. She became a bookworm, a student to be proud of, but she lost her very essence as she became a different type of perfection. She lost a part of her soul. So secretly, they love him for his taunts. Secretly, they love him for the sparkle he has brought back to her eyes and the passion they thought was lost to modesty. He restored her and even though it lasts only minutes every glimpse is worth the temper notorious to most redheads.

**“AHHHHHHHH”**

Her screams are right on time. She’s like clock work with her temper and her sister rolls her eyes at her desk before looking down at her books and her parents sigh and give each other a look silently working out who gets the daunting task of calming down their daughter today. They hear her stomp down the stairs and her mother stands up, places her tea cup in the sink, and waits patiently in the doorway for her daughter to come running past.

She walks down the stairs and swiftly walks past the kitchen to the patio without noticing her mother's patronizing stare. She throws open the sliding glass doors to her patio and paces near the pool. In her hand is the piece of parchment crumbled up and her mother watches as she takes it out and reads it silently once again. She looks up as she nears the end and her mother smiles at the fire in her eyes.

**"What’s he done now?”** She asks her daughter mockingly. as usual she misses the sarcasm and begins her ranting.

**“He wants to know if I’m having a good summer.”** She says spitefully.

**  
“His has been great, he says.”**

**  
“He wishes me luck with getting head girl.”** And she screams again with agitation as her mother shakes her head trying her best not to laugh because isn’t it obvious? Isn’t it so obvious how hard she’s trying not to like him? Isn’t it so obvious how hard she seems to have fallen?

**“That doesn’t seem so bad.”** She says in a motherly voice.

**“You don’t know him, mother.”** She says quite rudely. **“He’s dumb and arrogant and a regular farthead.”**

**  
“farthead?”** her mother laughs.

**  
“Stop mocking me mother.”** She says her cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. **“I hate him! I hate him so much it kills me!”**

She begins to rip the letter into little pieces screaming louder with each tear. When there’s nothing left of the simple, friendly letter, she looks around her and her eyes rest nearby on an assortment of furniture. She picks up the little green lawn chair she once used as a child and throws it with wild rage in the pool. Her mother watches the chair fly through the sky and backs away as the water splashes over the patio.

Her anger usually leaves her by then and all she does is rant to her mother how much she hates him. How irritable and absolutely annoying _that_ boy is. How no matter what he will never leave her alone. Her mother hugs her, tells her all boys are “fartheads” at his age and then laughs at the pink cheeks of her youngest child. There never is a reason for her anger.

There never is a reason except for the tingling she gets in her stomach when she sees him. There never is a reason except for the clammy hands she gets when near him and the constant visions of golden eyes when she’s trying to fall asleep and forget he ever existed. There never is a reason _(not counting those feelings she’ll never be able to explain)_ but a girl like her doesn’t need a reason to hate a boy like him. A girl like her needs no reason at all.

But it’s safe to say that James Potter has the rare and utterly fascinating gift of driving Lily Evans completely and horribly insane. _If only he wasn’t so annoyingly adorable._

End

Review! 

A/N: Just a little idea I got from my story Sisters. It’s dumb and strange and I like it anyway so you better like it too. 


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